


An Illustration of You |Markiplier x Child!Reader|

by AllMyBrokenStrings



Category: Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst and Humor, Art, Artists, Attempt at Humor, Childhood, Drawing, Fanfiction, Humor, Imaginary Friends, Markiplier - Freeform, Orphanage, Orphans, Other, Parent-Child Relationship, Realistic, Sad, Sad Ending, Unhappy Ending, YouTube, YouTubers - Freeform, jacksepticeye - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-15
Updated: 2018-06-04
Packaged: 2019-04-23 08:13:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,091
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14328291
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AllMyBrokenStrings/pseuds/AllMyBrokenStrings
Summary: You're my only friend. In black and white. In ink. On paper. I need you to be real. To be here, with me. Please.----Imaginary friends can come to life if you believe hard enough.





	1. Chapter 1: Prologue

_"What are you doing, (Y/n)?" An Irish male voice that belonged to a small child called out._

_"Wasting my life away," the small girl replied monotonously_

_A groan could be heard from the girls's bed, "Jesus, (Y/n)! Can you not be so grumpy for once?"_

_Said (blond/brunette/redhead) rolled her eyes from her desk, "I'll see what I can do."_

_"You know," though she couldn't hear him, (Y/n) knew he sat up on the bed, "For a 9 year old, you're really sassy. Maybe you should try Stand-Up Comedy. Why make one person miserable when you can work the whole room?"_

_(Y/n) turned from her chair to face the brown haired male behind her on (Y/n)'s bed, "Are you done?"_

_"Just tell me what you're doing, (Y/n)," the blue eyed boy sighed._

_(Y/n) rolled her (e/c) eyes, "I'm just drawing, Sean. Wanna see?"_

_Before Sean could answer, there was a knock on the door besides the bed before it opened. An older woman in her 30's stood in the door way, smiling at (Y/n). She wore a short sleeve, yellow dress that reached just below her knees. White frills outlined the sleeves and skirt of the dress, her flats a pearl color. Her hazel brown hair was put into a messy bun, a few strands of hair framing her pale face. Her dark brown eyes bore into (Y/n)'s own (e/c) ones. For a 36 year old, she looked very young._

_"Hello, (Y/n)," she smiled sweetly._

_"Morning, Ms. Lion," she greeted back._

_"Who were you talking to?" She asked her while taking a seat on the bed, causing the 9 year old to scurry away before he got sat on._

_Her smile drooped a bit, "N-No one, Ms. Lion. I was just thinking out loud."_

_Sean crossed his arms across his chest before huffing loudly, clearly annoyed that (Y/n) refuses to acknowledge him._

_Ms. Lion's smile didn't falter, "I heard you say a boy's name. Sean, was it?"_

_(Y/n) feigned confusion, "What?"_

_The hazel haired woman sighed, closing her eyes, "Are you...seeing or hearing things that I'm not, (Y/n)?"_

_(Y/n) almost hesitated. She wanted to be honest. She wanted to say yes, that she was talking to the boy next to her. She hated lying. But if anyone knew, they would take her to a hospital to make her better. (Y/n) didn't want anyone to take away her only friend. Sean was all she had in the orphanage._

_She smiled reassuringly, "No, Ms. Lion. Thank you for your concern, though."_

_Ms. Lion gave a small, unsure smile, "Come down stairs when you're ready, (Y/n)," she stood up, "Breakfast is about done."_

_(Y/n) nodded before Ms. Lion left his room, closing the door quietly before she left. (Y/n) groaned, rubbing her face with her (s/c) hands._

_"Well," Sean started, "That was rude of her. She almost sat on me!"_

_(Y/n) rolled her eyes before standing from the desk, "You're not real, Sean. She would've fazed right through you."_

_Sean huffed before standing up from the bed, his bare feet making a soft thud against the wooden tile floor "Still it the thought that counts and the effort that matters."_

_The 9 year old dusted his light gray jeans, then his navy blue shirt before standing next to the door. (Y/n) raised an eyebrow at him before heading to the door._

_"What am I gonna do with you?" She pondered aloud._

_"Hugging me could be a good start," he smiled, arms reached out for (Y/n)._

_(Y/n) swatted her hand right through Sean's arm, "Uh, yeah. Okay, I'll get right on that."_

_Sean pouted, "Fair point."_

\----

(Y/n) stared at the drawing of Sean she made 4 years ago when she was 9 years old, his nickname was Jack. She wondered what happened to him. Oh well, no use in crying over spilled milk. Besides, she's too old for imaginary friends.

* * *

_"The old imaginary friend I had as a kid dropped me because he thought I didn't exist."_

_"....Now that's just sad."_


	2. Chapter 2

Lightly shading in the last bit, (Y/n) leaned back into her chair and smiled contentedly at her new masterpiece. Her (e/c) eyes staring silently at her new work. Brushing her (h/c) hair out of her face, (Y/n) let out a sigh as she got up from her wooden chair, stretching as she stood on her bare feet. Her (s/c) hands were dirty from the sketching, line-work, and coloring. Her back and hands were sore too from working on it for excessive hours, but she finally finished.

(Y/n) stared at the half asian man she drew, tracing the line-art lightly with her index finger. _I'll come up with a name for you tomorrow._  The 13 year old thought happily, turning off the desk lamp, the room now devoid of light. She walked to her bed in her blue shorts and black sweat shirt. (Y/n) lifted up her covers, sitting on her bed, she then heard a click. Looking back to were the sound came from, (Y/n) was met with the desk lamp. The bright yellow light illuminated from the light-bulb. She furrowed her eyebrows together.

"I could've sworn I turned it off..." she muttered quietly.

Getting back up from the bed, she ventured back to the desk. Before turning off the light once more, (Y/n) looked down at the drawing she made. She drew the half asian man in a sitting position. He had black hair and dark brown eyes; thin, black framed glasses adoring his face, he was sitting crisscross. His right elbow leaning on his right knee, resting his hand on his palm. At least, that's how he was _originally_ drawn.

Now in the drawing, he was still sitting crisscross, but he was leaning back with his arms behind himself, his hands holding him up. (Y/n) rubbed her eyes, then looked back to the drawing. He was back in his original position, but this time he was leaning against his left elbow. Now (Y/n) may forget which way is right and which way is left, but she is  _certain_ she made sure he was leaning on his right while drawing him. _I'm probably just sleep deprived._ (Y/n) thought shaking her head.

Turning the light off once more, the 13 year old shuffled back into her bed. (Y/n) shut her eyes and immediately fell asleep. Too tired to notice the light turning back on. Too tired to notice the image on the paper disappear.

* * *

_"The old imaginary friend I had as a kid dropped me because he thought I didn't exist."_

_"....Now that's just sad."_


	3. Chapter 3

"Pst! Hey! Wake up, kid!" A male voice whispered, shaking the sleeping girl.

(Y/n) groaned, turning her back towards the man, "Let me be..."

The man was persistent, "Dude, wake the hell up!"

Grabbing onto the covers, the man roughly pulled it off of the sleepy kid. Goosebumps covered the girl's body as her pajamas were thin. (Y/n) growled while jerking up from the bed. She turns her head towards the culprit.

"Dude, what the hell is-" (Y/n)'s yelling abruptly stopped at the sight of the man before her.

The man was a lot taller than (Y/n)'s 5 '4', frame maybe around 5 '10' at least. He had a muscled figure with broad shoulders. He wore a black t-shirt and dark grey jeans, his converse were black with gray laces. He had black hair and dark brown eyes; his eyes really stood out against his tan skin. _Exactly how (Y/n) had drawn him on the paper._  (Y/n) quickly scrambled backwards to get away, her back and head roughly hitting the wall behind herself.

"Hey, whoa! Calm down, kid! I-I'm not gonna hurt you!" The half Hawaiian raised his hands in front of himself in a sign of peace and surrender.

(Y/n) pulled her knees up to her chest, wrapping her arms around her legs to pull them closer. Burring her face in her knees, (Y/n) started to groan loudly.

"You can't be _real_. You just _can't_!" (Y/n) repeated those statements to herself out loud as if it were a mantra.

The half Hawaiian and half Asian sat on the bed and (Y/n)  _felt_ the mattress dip under from the weight of the older man.

"Um, I'm not _real_. But, I'm real _enough_ , right? I mean, I _did_ just pull off your covers and shook you," the man tried to comfort the shaken 13 year old.

(Y/n) lifted her head from her knees, "Why _did_ you wake me? I was sleeping, dude. Not cool."

The man chuckled, "I just wanted to see if you could see or hear me. Oh!," he moves his back against the wall next to (Y/n), "I'm...." his smiles falters, but soon brings it back up, "Mark!"

(Y/n) blinked slowly, "Did...you just name yourself Mark?"

Mark smiles, "Well, yeah, I guess. I mean, it sounds a bit generic, but it's...fitting non the less."

(Y/n) furrowed her eyebrows, "Mark...is a nice name."

The corners of Mark's eyes wrinkles as he lets out a laugh, "Wow, really? Thanks!"

(Y/n) feels indifferent about all of what's happening. This can't be happening. It's NOT happening. _I'm going crazy_ , she thought solemnly, _the hallucinations, the auditory cues, it's all coming back. I haven't had this problem since-_

"Hey, do you hate being here?" Mark asked suddenly.

(Y/n) furrowed her eyebrows: "Um-"

"-(Y/n), it's time for breakfast," Ms. Lion knocks on her door.

"Uh, alright, let me get changed," she responds.

(Y/n) hears her footsteps get quiet signaling she went away. Once she gets off her bed, (Y/n) puts on blue jeans, black converse, and a whit t-shirt with the word fancy shirt printed in black. (Y/n) turns to look at Mark, but he wasn't there. She looks down at her drawing on the table only to find a blank paper. (Y/n) eyes widen.

This isn't feasibly possible. It shouldn't be possible. (Y/n) gives the paper one last glance before turning to leave the room.

\----

\----

(Y/n) couldn't sleep. She blames it on the missing Mark on her paper. (Y/n) feels uneasy that Mark just disappeared at once. Maybe it's a new phenomenon. It was already 2 in the morning. She spent a few hours trying to draw so she could get drowsy, but non avail. Once the clock turned to 1:30am, she decides to hit the hay.

And apparently she was hitting it very softly because she can't freaking sleep!

And _maybe_ it has to do with the fact that there were hands around her neck, choking her. But the thing was, that hand wasn't really there. It couldn't be. Mark wasn't real, neither were his hands. So how in the hell was she being choked?

She tried clawing away the hands around her throat, but she only fazed right through them. Mark's sharp finger nails started to break the skin to (Y/n)'s throat, the blood began to spontaneously spurt out of her neck. (Y/n) gasped for air as she felt the blood pooling inside her throat, making it harder to breathe.

Marl leaned forward, whispering into (Y/n)'s ear, "Sorry, kid. But if I wanna stay alive, I gotta kill ya. A life for a life."

Tears violently spilled over (Y/n)'s cheeks as her vision was beginning to be covered in black spots.

"Pl......se," (Y/n) couldn't get much out before her heart stopped breathing from the lack of oxygen.

And she sear she saw Mark crying as well before everything went black.

\----

\----

Ms. Lion walks in during the morning and immediately lets out a scream and tears weld up in her eyes before spilling over. There on (Y/n)'s bed was a dead child with her own hands around her throat. She choked herself to death. Her finger tips and the bed sheets under her neck were soaked in dried blood. If the lack of oxygen didn't kill her, then she would've most likely bleed out to death.

There were marks streaking down her neck, indicating she clawed her own throat. And next to her figure, was a blank paper, with nothing but the name Mark, written in blood.


End file.
